Loving Corpses
by Vergil Vanire's Paper Heart
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover. (Sephiroth/Cloud)
1. Executioner and Victim

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

Cloud is a monster, by just about any standard. It's what Hojo made him, as countless others. There is no switch to turn or spell to cast to stop his power, the fact remaining: that's just how he is. Yeah, just how he is... And it's no secret, within the walls of Shin Ra. Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.

By now, he's used to it, though, removing the cold hand from his waist, turning to caress the dead -though smiling- face of the war prisoner. "I hope you enjoyed this, baby," he tells the cadaver softly, so softly he might not have heard it, even if he was still alive. He kisses his forehead, his cheek bone, the side of his jaw and finally his lips in a ritual sacred to him. He moves the naked body to its back, crossing it's arms and covering it with a crisp white sheet from beneath the bed, though not before checking for a pulse -as he always did- part of him hoping it would be there, but knowing full well it wouldn't be. As usual, the beat had forsaken the corpse, the spirit having returned to the planet. He gathers the semen he would remember the prisoner by. Shin Ra dismissed the behavior long ago, just about encouraging it, really. They'd decided it was what any serial killer would do; why should an executioner behave any different. He smears the transparent fluid over the glass slide, as he had always done, stowing it in his bag.

He moves to the shower stall of the sparse -though comfortable- room, ridding himself of dried sweat, amongst other things, making quick work of it all before drying off and dressing.

He knocks on the wall. "36-10-59-97," he says, confirming that he is the executioner. The guard opens the door, unable to repress a shudder at the sight of the blond man, who seemed to creep out everyone except the first-class SOLDIERs. Cloud mentally smiles to himself, deciding to have some fun while he's still here. He cups the tan man's face, the warden relaxing to his touch. They always did. "It's horrible, isn't it?" he asks, faking the beginnings of tears.

"Wh-what is?" the guard replies.

"I wake up the morning after someone makes love to me and they're always...they're always...! Oh, I'm sorry, you don't really want to hear all this, do you?" he apologizes, subtly blinking the first tear down his cheek. "What is your name?" he inquires, acting lost in some sense.

"Daemon. Daemon Braskley," the warden replies, reaching out to hold the blond in front of him, to comfort the distressed being -that really isn't distressed at all, but really just screwing with him.

"What a beautiful and fitting name," he smiles, able to seem genuine, though it wouldn't really matter with the man already under his spell. "Thank you for insuring my safety this morning, Daemon." He finally breaks contact, the larger man still in a mild daze. He continues to Sephiroth's office; he needs someone to talk to and the general was usually there by now, even though it's only little past 6:00 A.M.

He doesn't even knock, just comes in and sits in front of the desk. Sephiroth looks up from his papers, removing slim reading glasses. "I was expecting you sooner. Did something happen?"

"No, just woke up late."

"Hn," the older man acknowledges. "Was there anything special this time?"

"No, same as always. So, shaken, as always..."

"Come here," the silveret beckons. Cloud complies, walking around the desk, in front of his superior. He pulls the fragile blond onto his lap, pulling him sideways and holding him close. "I know what they say, but they're wrong. You aren't a monster; you can't help what you do. If you could, you would have settled down by now. I know you, Cloud. I know how lonely you get, how heartbreaking it is that the only time you can be intimate with someone is while you kill them. That you can't bring your dates past your door because you're afraid of what might happen."

The younger is in tears -real tears- by this point. And he's not influencing Sephiroth, that's probably what breaks him most, that the commander is saying all this all on his own, that he really does understand. "I don't want to do this any more! I want to be a normal soldier, not dispose of our prisoners..."

"I know what you mean. It kills me to know how much this hurts you. But someone has to do it, and I feel that you're the best person for this."

"What do you mean? Seph... I fucking _murder_ them with my body. I have sex with people, and they die. That's my fucking _job_..."

"But I can't think of a better way to go. If I was going to die by anyone's hand, I'd want it to be yours. You can't deny it, Cloud. They enjoy what you do to them. After they suffer down there for weeks -sometimes months- they're miserable. Then they get taken to the execution chamber without even knowing what it is, and you give them the best way of dying anyone could ask for. You're not exactly a scythe or guillotine, in case you haven't noticed. But that's not all you are, either. You love people, like Zack and I. Angeal and Genesis, too. You love us, but you hardly touch us, because you're so scared. Come over, tonight, after work. We'll prove you don't have to be afraid."

"Seph..."

"You won't hurt us," he says, moving back, to look gently at the boy in his lap. "I know you won't."

"I hope you're right," the executioner breathes, shakily. "Because I'm so tired of loving corpses..."

* * *

A/N: So, I know I said I was going to finish my other story first, but...well, I can't help it; I love this idea. So, expect another chapter, soon~ ^_^

I hope you all enjoyed this dark little thing, and I'm crossing my fingers for a review or two. Have a nice day.


	2. Incubus and Paramour

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

Cloud doesn't show up for a while after work. Though the general had insisted they all just go together, the incubus had insisted he go home first, something about 'setting the mood.' Sephiroth, Angeal, and Zack didn't seem to appreciate and went as far as labeling the blond 'impractical,' but Genesis seemed to understand the gesture, though he couldn't explain it very well.

As such, Cloud does all the things you might expect one to do before going to their lover's (well, for him: lovers') house, as well as some precautionary measures. He slips into dark jeans, a navy t-shirt, high top Converse that seemed to emphasize his already youthful appearance and unnecessary gloves. He stares at the mirror a long time before he leaves, trying to make himself believe his silver-haired lover, though proving it rather difficult. In the end, he tells himself what he always does before he goes to see them: "Don't touch them and you'll be fine."

And he would have. Really, he would have. But mere nanoseconds after the opening of the threshold broke, a young ravenet holds him in the arms of the jaw of a pit bull, and his vow is broken. "Cloud's here!" the young SOLDIER calls to the rest of the household.

A disgruntled Genesis wonders down the stairway, mumbles of interrupted beauty slumber and something about the Goddess falling from his mouth. Sephiroth strolls leisurely from the kitchen, drying multi-skilled hands on a bland dishtowel. "It was getting late; I...didn't think you were going to come."

"That's on Thursday, silly." The incubus' attempt of jest flies over the silveret's head, but Zack stares in a morbid fascination at the youngest lover.

Sephiroth merely inclines his head to the left, clear puzzlement carved into his celestial features. Cloud always found it so amusing that someone so much older could be so oblivious. Comical, really. "You should come in; it's cold outside."

"'The moon gives me permission,'" Genesis begins in words only he and Cloud recognize. "'To enter through his eyes. He loses his virginity, and every will to compromise.'"

"_Pretty Sins_," Cloud enlightens.

"That's what we're watching. Unless you wanted to feed on one of those two," the redhead offers deviously.

"Genesis!" Sephiroth warns, venom shining through mako-soaked eyes.

"Were you trying to kid yourself?" he asks, tilting his head in a playful manner that meant the two should be separated soon, lest the living quarters be destroyed.

"Sephiroth, it's fine, let's just leave."

"Clou-" he stops at a deep, pleading look from the younger. "Agreed."

Zack stands by, too shocked to do anything. Angeal stays silent as ever, unwilling to choose a side in the seemingly endless battle between the hero and his aspirer. But he recognizes the line. The line Genesis just crossed. But it isn't his fight, and he recognizes that, too. The ravenet rubs his neck in anxiety, moving towards his indecisive mentor and lover, the other two closing the door at the top of the steps.

"You shouldn't have to deal with that."

"It's not that he hates me or anything. He's just...publicly displeasured at the form I've taken."

"I don't understand why; he's never hinted at wanting a sexual relationship with you."

"He enjoys my company, when we aren't around the rest of you. He just doesn't like the idea that I could take your lives as easily as he could do away with an unarmed infantryman. And...he's right; I really shouldn't have come here, until I find a way to stop myself feeding on other people's life force."

"Tell me again how it works; I could brainstorm some ideas."

"I don't fully understand, myself. It's something like: the vulnerability of their climax allows Echidna to collect the life energy and disperse it between us, cycling old energy back to the planet. But I can't comprehend how it works very well, beyond that. Hojo has theories, plenty of theories, but we don't have a whole lot of answers to work with. I guess I could ask her nicely if she wouldn't steal our lovers' life energy, but when was the last time someone trusted a demon and had it work out?"

"Point taken. It's not that it really matters, but if I could only put Gene's mind to rest... If he got along better with you, it wouldn't be so bad, here."

"We get along on our own time. But can you blame him? He looks at this polyamory as the three of you. When Zack and I got involved...well, he just feels like it won't stop. He feels like he's going to end up having to memorize the names of twenty lovers."

The superior sighs, resting on the bed. "Maybe we should just leave; two less to worry about," he muses, halfhearted.

Cloud sits a safe distance from the exasperated paramour. "Where would they be without a knight in leather armor?"

"Humph. They can have Genesis, he claims he will surpass me. Any day now, it'll happen."

"Do you want to? Just for tonight, I mean. For a break, or whatever..." Cloud knows he could have just used his influence, that the elder wouldn't have minded, but he would have felt wrong in doing so. Sephiroth knows how hard it is for Cloud to speak his mind to the people who he cares for, simply agreeing with a nod. They exit through the back door, _Pretty Sins _playing around tense SOLDIER, masking the sound of the door. But Genesis knows they've departed, without having to look, and contemplates an apology for the blond.

"I don't see you outside of work clothes very often," Cloud muses.

"You don't see me outside of _work_ very often," the general replies with an arched brow.

"Guess that's on me. I guess I just assumed you sleep in all that leather, or something," the younger chuckles.

"That would be uncomfortable. I did try it, once; to save time in the morning, but I didn't enjoy it and never did it again."

"I can imagine. Where are we going?"

"I thought you knew?" the SOLDIER asks, with a mildly panicked glance.

"Don't sweat it, I'm a country boy; we always find our way back," Cloud soothes confidently.

"I always wondered of your accent. Zack is from a similar area, but he's had plenty of time to figure out how to mask it. You, though, you've only been here six months. How did you hide it?"

"I'm rather adaptive, I guess," the youth shrugs.

The two spend the evening talking about everything and nothing, wandering aimlessly around the city.

"So, why didn't you join the Turks, or something?"

"I guess I just wanted to fight. Turks are mostly for reconnaissance, not really my thing. I started Mako infusions very young. I was basically a Shin-Ra baby, knowing no other parent. What of you? Why Shin-Ra at all?"

"I wanted...to prove myself. I'm considered high-stamina in Shin-Ra, but I'm actually kind of a wimp when it comes to my hometown. I'd been called just about everything in the book. Twink, that was a big favorite of theirs. So, I came to Shin-ra to prove my masculinity, and found instead that: hey, no one really cares if you're gay, because most of us are. Speaking of which; when did you know, anyway?"

"Well, Shin-Ra is made up mostly of men, so that's what I was around when I was maturing. I hardly ever set eyes on a living woman, so I didn't really think about them when I started craving other bodies. I guess that means it's more circumstantial than anything, but I wouldn't change it if I could. I did go through a period of time on the 'other side of the fence,' but I found that women are too high maintenance to keep up with."

Hours pass, a long while spent in silence. Hands are held, thick gloves blocking any real contact. There's a question on both minds at the youth's apartment door, anxiety building up in the blond. "You can...stay with me. But don't get too close; I don't...I don't want to hurt you..."

Sephiroth places the back of his hand gently at a pale cheek, a kiss hardly brushing faintly bruised lips. "You won't hurt me. If you can't trust yourself, then trust me."

And he thinks he can, after a moment. He knows he can with the door open. But his faith falters on the other side of the threshold, and wedges the distance back between them again, slowly. Sephiroth understands. He does. But it hurts, and nothing stops that, a meter of air and tension and things he doesn't know how to describe between two people in one bed. The burden of Cloud's love is more than a crime to them. It's a sin.

A pretty sin.

A beautiful sin, wrapped in lace and ribbon, drenched in lust and love, and if the moon ever gave permission, he knew Cloud wouldn't, even without any will of compromise.

* * *

A/N: Well, things have been hectic, but I got around to it. _Expectations_ will be updated tomorrow.

Hope you enjoyed~~~

Would love reviews, they keep the story going ^_^


	3. Soldier and General

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

When Cloud wakes up, Sephiroth is gone, as he could have predicted. He sighs, a string of his heart pulled, a knot untied. He wonders how many knots he has left before they all unravel and it breaks again. He readies himself for his day. There's an attack on Wutai soon, Lazard says he needs them both for briefing. It's not hard to guess what Cloud is needed for, but the blond does wonder who it will be. A piece of him argues that his job is 'executioner' but the other side thinks that maybe he'll get to fight a real battle if he does good.

It's a lie.

And he knows it. But he wants it to be true so bad that he's willing to look past that and hope for a proper gun or sword and body strengthening mako instead of...whatever his injections are. When he joined SOLDIER, he wanted to be like Sephiroth. He wanted to be a hero. But, the blond is certainly no hero. He recognizes this, pulling on the uniform.

"Cloud, Lazard needs you," Angeal says, approaching his side.

"I know."

"The office is the other way?"

"I know that, too."

"Where are you going?"

"There's just this thing I have to do before we get sent out. I'll be on time, don't worry."

Angeal doesn't worry. He knows Cloud can take care of himself better than anyone.

"Genesis." The redhead turns to face the younger.

"What is the pleasure ode to your presence?"

"If you want, I could die soon."

Genesis tilts his head, in a questioning manner. "You think I want you dead?" He seems almost amused by the perception.

"Wouldn't it be easier for you?"

The older man shakes his head, walks over to place a hand on the teen's shoulder. "I do not hate you, boy. In fact, quite the opposite. I enjoy your company."

"But you don't want me around the others?"

"You have a positive effect on Sephiroth, and for that, I am grateful. However, I do not fancy the idea that you can manipulate him so easily. But, I do not resent you. I would rather you live and keep me on the edge than die and displease Sephiroth. I apologize if you took offence to what I said yesterday."

"I...have to go to a meeting...Thank you, Genesis," the younger says from the doorway.

"Return safely," the elder calls.

* * *

If Eve had been made from Adam's rib, Cloud had been made from his sin. Cloud saw himself only as sin. But people loved to sin. Dono Kisaragi is no exception. This Friday, as many others, found him in a Wutainese brothel.

"Isn't this kind of pointless?" Cloud asks his partner, who props himself lazily against the wall. "I mean, this brothel is directing service to straight males."

"That's why we're going to make you look like a straight female."

"You're really going to make me wear that?"

"If I have to force you into it, I won't hesitate. But for now: I'll just hope you put it on yourself," the silveret replies. Most people can't tell when the general is attempting humor, but cloud recognizes the sentiment, pulling the qipau on, frowning at the reflection. Did they really have to go so all-out? All they really had to do was get close enough for influence... Sephiroth, as if reading the executioner's mind, explains: "It's mostly to fool the people you won't be influencing. I do not doubt your power, but you cannot control an entire room."

It mostly goes smoothly. Until the incubus wants to talk. And he can't do it, not like this... Cloud does not destroy families, that's not his job, though tonight's prey seemed to be doing a pretty good job of that by himself. "Excuse me for a moment," the blond requests.

He opens the door to the next room, revealing one leather-clad battle master polishing an overly long Masamune. "Yes?" the silveret asks, never looking up.

"I can't."

Hands halt their ever-patient work. Eyes widen, then narrow. A head raises to stare at his small partner. "This is not the time for insubordination."

Cloud recognizes the shift of energy, standing at attention. "General Sephiroth, Sir. Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

The commander stands, fulfilling his role properly. "Granted, proceed."

"Kisaragi has a child."

"I'm sure plenty of the people you do away with had children." Sephiroth does not miss the way Cloud's lips tighten, but he cannot give into apology right now; this is not the appropriate time for casual banter. Cloud needs to kick it into gear and do his job.

"She is...of the age she would know he was gone. And miss him. Because of that, we would be making and enemy of the next generation of Wutai."

"That is not why you are hesitating, though, is it?"

"...No, Sir."

The general holds the bridge of his nose, feeling the migraine starting already. "You do realize this is going on your permanent record, correct?"

"...Sir..."

"At ease, soldier," he orders, moving his hand to the base of his bangs. "We were stopped at the gate."

"Huh?"

"It will be worse if the mission was aborted. So, the mission was failed. If you simply chose not to follow orders, you could be severely punished. So, we were stopped at the gates. Fix yourself up, and meet me outside the city. I have some covering to do," Sephiroth says, pushing passed the inferior ranked soldier. Cloud knew exactly what Sephiroth meant by 'covering.' Knew there would be blood.

* * *

"I hate you!"

"Rude...though not unexpected," Hojo muses behind his desk. "You are all the same, really. So ungrateful. I made you, after all, but am I given thanks? Hardly. Instead: you little boys come here yelling profanities and punching my desk."

"Made me? Made me into what?! A monster?!" Cloud shouts, with a threatening step toward the scientist.

"Humans are all monsters to begin with. 'Higher meaning' is only an illusion to make you feel better," the professor sighs. "You should be glad for what you are, at least you are a monster with power. Military intelligence is truly an oxymoron these days..."

The blond grits his teeth, snarling at the old man and exiting with the slam of a door, that almost certainly needs repair, now.

Cloud's mind clouds itself in blind rage, thinking of the most gruesome ways of torturing the old man without having to touch him.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are replied to and very much appreciated!

Sis: Yes, hurrah for third-person PoV, now we don't have to have all the craziness and nonsensical thoughts that come from one mind's distortion or the lack of other characters' thoughts and feelings, we can get more done. (Though I quite enjoyed expressing Leon's pain so thoroughly in _Expectations_). I'm glad you seem to be enjoying the story so far, and I'm sorry for the dialog confusion; I thought the second line in that scene would help define who said what (it's very difficult to find nonrepetitive ways to define who says what, and I like to avoid it when I can. Also, I try to avoid dialogue when I can, but that can be very difficult in the beginning of a story.) Thank you for your continued support of my works!

I hope you all enjoyed!


	4. Antagonizing the Beast

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

The first time Cloud had ever been with someone after the operation, he thought he knew how to feel. Well, rather, he knew how he shouldn't feel. Because he'd been with Zack before that stranger, so he knew he shouldn't have been feeling anxious or tense, like he had. Or, maybe he was, after all the man was new territory for him and he'd been quite tipsy at the time, so it might have been understandable. Might have been normal, even. So, he let the man press up against him, let him whisper in Cloud's ear all the ways he was slowly killing him.

Which had turned out to be surprisingly accurate.

When morning rays woke him easily through the closed motel blinds and he'd felt how cold the body beside him was, he'd been too horrified to do little but dress and run. The man didn't even make the obituary a month later. Then again, motels are shady enough as it is, why publicize a death there? Cloud only ever told one person about that time.

Hojo.

Who had seemed to be undressing the half-undressed teen on the consulting room bed the rest of the way. Later, he would revise that statement. Later, he would realize it wasn't mental disrobing. It was mental dissection. On most of the rare occasions he would return to the doctor, he would bring Sephiroth. And the doctor would look at the patient. And the general would look at the doctor looking at the patient. And the patient would look at the general looking at the doctor looking at the patient. Needless to say how little eye contact occurred during those visits.

Then, one day -it was awful, really- he had burst into laughter in the cafeteria after he'd overheard a Third Class -with a great deal of condescension- call him a man eater. Because -of all the things they could have said about him, horrible, horrible things that could have been lies- nothing had hit quite as close to home. And he fled the cafeteria, leaving behind one extremely confused Zack Fair. Zack had not heard this insult. Because the comment had been whispered...on the other side of the cafeteria.

* * *

"Genesis, why do they all hate me? I mean, I don't even talk to them," the executioner mopes, lying in an awkward pose in the leather seat, glaring at the upside-down view of his superior's bland wall, that wouldn't change a whole lot if he looked at it properly.

"They could be jealous, I suppose," the redhead offers, stapling some papers. "Or maybe they all agree with one opinion and hating you has become the social norm. Of course, the most probable reason -I think- would be: you represent a reality they are unwilling to accept. You are the embodiment of sexuality and, of course, of death. Two contrary ideas that no one really wants to mix, one causing grief, the other euphoria. You're gift is the most unpleasant one of all."

"Gee, thanks. I'm so flattered."

"Shouldn't you be talking about this with Sephiroth instead?"

"Gene, you _know_ how he is. He sucks at multitasking. He can't hold a conversation during breakfast and pour syrup correctly." Pale burgundy stained lips rise to a wry grin that the blond doesn't have to see to know is there. "You know it's true."

"All things humorous must have some truth to them," he agrees with a signature to a paper.

* * *

"Hey, Cloud!" The incubus turns at his name, to find a familiar ravenet rushing toward him. "Hey, we haven't been out in a while. I thought we could grab a drink tonight. Whaddya think?" Cloud gives a bemused smile. "What?"

"You don't know a whole lot about supernatural habits, do you? I drink at DamNatioN, and when I ask for a 'Bloody Mary,' I'm not asking the bartender to mix me a metaphor." Zack vaguely attempts concealing a grimace, but does little to actually hide it. "Unless you wanted to go," the incubus offers playfully with a smirk. "It would be great, you could drink a virgin margarita while I drink the blood of a virgin."

"Think I'm gonna pass on that..."

It wasn't that Cloud needed any blood to sustain his existence, in fact the only necessity being a good bedroom brawl every now and then. But since the change, he had craved red things that were at least semi-liquid and eventually discovered why. Alcohol just wasn't the same without it... Of course, now he actually did want to go.

Which was a bad idea, everyone seeming particularly entranced by him. Like the Lamia girl beside him bantering annoyingly, who seeming to be closer to leaning on him every passing moment and he just couldn't seem to drop a heavy enough hint and still be polite about. Time to resort to plan B...

"Hey, what was your name again?"

"Victoria."

"Hey, Victoria?"

"Yeah?"

"Come closer," he beckons. She complies, a bashful smile playing on her lips.

"Yes?"

"Victoria... Go to Hell," he says, still smiling softly at her.

She frowns the kind of frown that implies 'How dare you, my daddy's rich!' but, he doesn't really care, turning back to the bar as she walks away.

Cloud didn't often find enjoyment in being a jerk, but sometimes it was completely worth it. In fact, it was always worth it. Honestly, he did like being a jerk, actually. But he didn't want people to look at him that way. Not that it wasn't fixable, with a little manipulation... _I'm a bad person_, he muses, with a sip of O type infused wine, some dripping from his lip, swept away by perhaps the most devilish tongue there, even after the vampyres.

Cloud loved the intoxicating feel of inhibitions fading. He does not, however, love the way the drunkard three seats away seems to be losing an argument and seems to be the drunk type that believed volume succeeds when logic fails, not with ears so sensitive, and leaves for the night, pleasantly buzzed but not much more. He didn't drink to drunkenness very often.

* * *

"And what's all this got to do with me? Wait...you think I did it, don't you?" the executioner speculates, hurt by the thought.

"It did cross our minds once," Angeal admits, with something like shame.

"Actually, it kept crossing our minds, over and over," Genesis starts. "Maybe we should put in a cross walk," he pretends to contemplate.

"I didn't do it!"

"Settle down," Sephiroth demands from the far wall. "We know you didn't do it. You don't even know how to load that gun model, much less shoot it. We were only hoping you might know who did."

"How should I know? You guys are the only people who willingly talk to me in this entire building."

Sephiroth inclines his head. "I don't mean them."

"You think an undead did it?"

"It would explain the missing blood. Probably a Lamia, as incubi and succubi of any sort wouldn't drink so much at once and Lycans would have devoured everything."

"Why Lamia? Why not made vampyres?"

"The Created do not possess the healing qualities in their saliva, and we could find no bite marks."

"Does Zack know about any of this?"

The said boy's mentor tenses. "This does not concern him."

"Why should any of this concern me?"

"His uptake skills are miraculously resistant to hasten. Are we sure he's one of ours?" Genesis teases.

Angeal rolls his eyes. "Two things. One: as this is a supernatural case, a lot of our military will be after you worse than normal. Two: we want you to help us look."

"What do you want me to do about it? I'm executioner; I can't exactly be stringing terrorists on fire."

"You just said it: you're _executioner_. I'm sure you can figure it out," the redhead smirks. "Think of it as...a chance to redeem yourself for that failed mission."

The clarity strikes Cloud with sickening horror. It wasn't even that someone was asking him to dispose of a criminal. It was that his friends and partner were asking him. Is that really all he is: an executioner? To everyone? Genesis' emotions need to get off that swing-set of their's soon, before Cloud gets motion sickness. He leaves without a word, and a certain silveret knows it was a bad call, to let them ask him. To help them ask him is even worse. He moves from the wall, trailing after the blond. He snatches a slender wrist. "Cloud. You don't have to. It would make things easier, but you don't have to. It's not an order."

"Who's idea was it?" Cloud inquires.

"Cloud..."

"_Who's idea was it_?" he repeats, darkly.

"Genesis'..." the general replies, defeated.

The executioner pries himself violently from the hold of his superior, running down the hall in complete fury, a whisper in his ear: _Rage... Rage against the light! Free yourself from the tyrannical hold!_

And rage he does, all the way down the seemingly endless stairs of Shin-Ra and out of it. After that? The real rage begins.

* * *

A/N: So, yeah, Cloud's kind of an angry person right now... which should be understandable, demon lady in there and all.

Sis: Yes, it is rather odd to see Cloud cracking like this, isn't it? I imagine it's even more so for us, making the transition from his persona in the other story.


	5. Blind Rage

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

A hunter with the least amount of tracking skills could have easily found Cloud. Anyone with enough curiosity -well, stupidity, really- could have found him. But no one seems mentally lacking enough to follow the road of bloodied monsters to look for him.

_Good_, the immortal compliments, not-quite solidified arms wrapping around his shoulders, snake-like lower half wrapping around his middle. _Very good. You swell with potential every passing day._

The panting swordsman shrugs out of her fading hold. "Shut up. You and I are nothing alike."

_Aren't we, though?_

"No, we aren't, Echidna."

_Oh? You deny it? You cannot stop this, Cloud._

"Shut up," he demands firmly.

A hand grips his own. _You're going to be just like us._

"I said shut up!" he seethes, bringing the practice sword against the snake woman. Only, instead of his sword meets metal, and he's thrown several meters backwards, sliding across the grassy plain. Scratch that initial statement. _One_ person was mentally lacking enough to follow the bloodbath of Cloud's wake. Seeing long silver hair only provokes further anger, red blurring the vision of the infuriated teen. He stops himself with little grace, working into an ill-prepared charge at the unflinching general, who merely parries the attack, sending the sword and it's wielder back again, though not nearly as far.

_Clash. Clash, clash._ Cloud falls again, but doesn't stay there long, thrusting the blade toward his partner's abdomen only to be blocked once more. It continues the way a while longer, the younger's weapon split in two at some point, though he doesn't seem to care in the least, still trying to injure the older soldier. Sephiroth manages to disarm the incubus, but even that does not deter the blond, who then comes at him with his very body, somehow able to force his superior back, though never landing a blow on him. Sephiroth thanked the stars for the younger's state of unfocus, because they did seem rather powerful and he didn't doubt they would even hurt a seasoned SOLDIER as himself. The silveret sighs, not wanting to hurt his paramour, but seeing no way around it, puncturing the blond's shoulder all all the way through, the incubus wincing, obviously in a great deal of pain, panting heavily. He presses the blade downward, forcing Cloud with it. "Are you quite finished?" he asks neutrally. The other's eyes slide close as he slides further into the sword. He had overexerted himself and lost consciousness. Sephiroth lets out a breath, maneuvering the overly long Masamune back to it's sheath, trading it for his lover, wary of the bleeding wound.

He could empathize with Cloud about his feelings all day, but this was just uncalled for.

* * *

When Cloud wakes, it's not to his bed, and he's afraid to open his eyes, afraid of what he might have done. "You have awoken?" a familiar voice asks, triggering the memories of pre-exertion. He rises, or starts to, at least, a deep ache in his shoulder forcing him back down with a soft whimper.

"Don't move; you haven't healed yet."

"You don't say?" the blond grounds out through gritted teeth, not quite able to lace it with humor.

"I apologize for that..."

The incubus sighs. "No, I am. You wouldn't have had to do that if I hadn't freaked out..." Silence impregnates the air for several moments.

"We shouldn't have asked you to do all that. It was insensitive and...well, I know you weren't upset for no reason. I would have been upset, too."

Much like the day in the cafeteria, the incubus is unable to contain his unreasonable laughter, though it causes him much pain. "No, you wouldn't," he says, bitterly. "You don't know how to say no to Shin-Ra."

Sephiroth stays silent. Cloud is right. And they both know it.

"It's one of the things I look up to you for. Your loyalty to what you do."

The general stands, approaching the door. "Loyalty is not always a virtue, Cloud. Obedience often leads to despair in such extremes. remember that the next time you say 'I want to be like you.'"

And, as per usual, Cloud is alone.

Why did it have to be him? Why was he compatible? Why did he have to become...

She slithers to his side, long nails caressing the pale face in the darkness, some kind of light coming through the blinds and giving the scene an eerie glow that bothers neither party. _Don't you see now, child? You are not like them._

"I'm not like you, either," he defends.

She breathes out lightly, half lying beside them, propped on an elbow. _I am not concerned. You will come to accept all these things in due time. But know this: the time you stay between the the only one who will care for you is me._ She digs her fingers unexpectedly into the wound, making him cry out softly in pain. To his horror, it seals, no evidence it had ever been wounded. She is right, no matter how much he denies it, he is changing, and not for the better. _They do not love you. Will never love you as we can. They are playthings. Remember what you are. Join us, and prosper._ The incubus is running out of reasons to stay in the state of partial humanity he has left.

* * *

"You _will_ stay away from him," Sephiroth demands, pressing Genesis harshly into the wall.

"Will I?"

"You will. Or I will tear your still-beating heart from your chest, feed it to the Midgar Zolom, and impale him with a tree."

Genesis laughs at this. "You and your empty threats...is it me, or have they been getting more violent as of late? Perhaps you are the terrorist. Perhaps you drained all those bodies and open fired on their corpses, no?"

The silveret stares at him a moment, dropping him back to the ground. But Genesis makes a mistake. He smirks smugly at the other with a noise of triumph. And Sephiroth does something he hasn't done in years.

He punches the annoyance.

And he takes satisfaction in the sickening _crack!_ that follows, feeling ribs break beneath his fist.

"Cloud?" Gone. Window: open, Cloud: missing. He wonders idly how the teen managed to stay alive so long, touching the bridge of his nose at the feeling of a migraine forming between his eyes.

* * *

A/N: Well...fighting is bad, don't reenact any of that.

Sis: Yes, poor Cloud is right! Can you even imagine how he must have felt when Genesis said that? I broke my own heart writing that...then the fight at the beginning of this chapter, too. ):


	6. An Unfortunate Happening

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

Cloud feels it, trying to unfold from the left of his back. It's hurting him to keep it there, but releasing it would mean he lost. He can't let that happen. He takes a different sword, not for practice. He won't be so easily beaten, not again. Not by anyone...

"What are you doing so far up here? People will start to to think you're suicidal," a familiar voice calls from behind.

"That would be pointless, Genesis. I can't die; not anymore."

"So, you have realized. Tell me: how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"To know that you have to bow to the one who defeats you, of course." Cloud turns, the Force edge right against the older man's neck. "Could you relax for two minutes? That is not why I'm here."

"What do you want, Genesis? If you give me a good enough answer, I might just let you leave alive," he says, newly clawed hand rising with dark energy: an Ultima spell.

"To help you, of course. Why else would I have pushed you so far?"

"Echidna?"

The demoness slithers to his side, more solidified than before. _He speaks the truth._

"Cloud!"

"Leave this place, Sephiroth!" the blond demands.

"Cloud, come back. You aren't healed."

The blond shakes his head in disbelief, a bitter smile marking his face. "That's what you're worried about? I'm fine Sephiroth. That is...if you consider _this_ fine!" the blond howls, clawed hand flaring to the side. Behind it, a dark, leathery wing stretches. The general takes half a step back. "Where are your reassuring words now, Sephiroth? How can you claim I'm not a monster...with this?!" The silveret looks away. "That's right. You can't!" he shrieks, grabbing the snake woman around the waist, throwing himself from the building. His lover runs forward in surprise, the blond flying away from him.

"What did you do?!"

Genesis shakes his head. "You really don't get it, do you?" The redhead brings his hand to his forehead, pulling it away. With it, a feathered version of the other's. "We are all liars, Sephiroth. Who do you want to be?" Genesis, too, leaps from the tower, flying away and leaving him there.

_When did things get so bad?_ he thinks. But, no one can answer.

* * *

"What?! No! Why?!"

"Calm down, Zack. There is nothing we can do," the general says.

"What do you mean 'nothing we can do?' We just bring them back, right?"

"It's not as simple as you want to believe," Angeal denies. "Deserters as powerful as Cloud and Genesis are 'eliminate on site.'"

"We can't let that happen!"

"No. We can't," the silveret agrees cryptically, exiting the room.

Zack glares at the floor, teeth grit tightly. _What's gotten into everyone?_ Sephiroth hadn't told him a key piece. Hadn't told him of the protruding mass at the executioner's back. Hadn't told anyone. Wouldn't tell anyone.

Sephiroth is unable to focus, accomplishing little by the end of the day, most of which he'd spent holding his head, a splitting migraine never resting, or rather, never letting him rest.

* * *

Silent as ever, Cloud stares out the dusty window, seeing everything and nothing all at once. It could never be simple for him, could it? Echidna looks with him, arms circling his waist from behind. It didn't bother her in the least how dejected the change had made him; she'd gotten her way, and soon she could exist completely on her own. That did bother her, mildly, however. What could she say when that happened? How could she tell him she wanted to remain? He certainly didn't want her to...

"'Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess, We seek it thus, and take it to the sky, Ripples form on the water's surface, The wandering soul knows no rest,'" Genesis quotes. "I can tell, you are already lying in regret."

"Loveless...One becomes a hero, one wanders the land, and the last is taken prisoner." Echidna keeps quiet, listening to the exchange between the men, slithering slightly away from her 'child.'

"Yes, but which are we?"

"'The wandering soul knows no rest.' That would be me, I suppose. Sephiroth of course, will always be my hero. That would leave you, Genesis. The prisoner to your own heart."

"Interesting interpretation. Cold, yes. But interesting. I'm still deciding, of course. Will I fight you to become the hero? Or him?"

"You tend to forget I know how to defeat you," the blond comments, turning to his counterpart.

"Ah, yes. Decapitation is the best solution for quick-healing enemies. That goes for you as well, though. I wonder: who would be able to strike first?"

"Do you want to try it?" the executioner asks, lifting the blade as if in invitation.

"Afraid not, at least for today. We still have to finish the story, after all."

"You and your stories... Am I the only one not sick of them, yet?"

"Would be ill surprising if you are. Come, we must find that men I spoke of."

* * *

A/N: Well, it seems like it sucks to be everyone except Genesis right about now...

Skystrife: I'm glad you're enjoying this so far, and yes, it is pretty confusing. They were all together, but they kind of had favorites and sides. So, for Genesis, that was Sephiroth and Angeal. For Sephiroth: Angeal, Genesis, and Cloud. For Angeal: Genesis, Sephiroth and Zack. For Zack: Angeal, and Cloud and for Cloud: Zack and Sephiroth. So, yes, super confusing, which is why I refer to all of them as lovers, no matter which two I'm talking about.

Guest: Thank you for supporting the story ^_^

Sis: Didn't hear from you before posting this, hoping to soon ^_^

I hope my silent readers out there enjoyed this as well!


	7. The Closest Things

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

"Go on," Cloud encourages.

"'I weep for Narcissus, though not for his beauty; never did I see his beauty. I weep for Narcissus because time after time he knelt at my side, I would look into his eyes to see my own beauty reflected,' the pond replied,'" Genesis recounts.

"Then what?"

Echidna, almost completely solid by this point, shakes her head, what might one dare to call a smile playing at her lips. "They truly do not read you these stories in Nibelheim?"

In reality, most residents of Nibelheim did not know _how_ to read. He had learnt -by slim chance- from his mother, who had little by way of reading material. Often during his childhood, his writing lessons occurred on walls with rocks or, when he'd gotten old enough, knives, the explanation behind the upward strikes in his writing and unique (awkward) way of holding pencils and pens. Though he was often bullied for his vast knowledge on matters as proper grammar, his mother took pride in his ease of ability to learn things like correct grammar and spelling, or how he could usually find the meaning of a word by context alone. "Did I say something funny?"

The redhead knows this, trying not to draw attention to the detail, lest he cause the blond embarrassment. "That is where the story ends," Genesis explains neutrally. "Narcissus drowns, the flower blooms, the pond weeps, the Goddess asks, and the pond replies. That is the ending."

"What's the point then?"

"The point is: don't be vain," the woman answers.

"The moral has many possibilities," Genesis contradicts sternly, acting as though ignoring Echidna. "For example: how a likeness can bring people together."

"How so?"

"In the pond's case, she knew that she was seeing her beauty in Narcissus. Yet for some, we see a beauty in others that we ourselves possess, admiring without noticing we have it as well."

"So, the story is about projection?"

"The symbolism of a story, as I've already said, can be debated. To find the meaning in a story for yourself, that is the best meaning it can have."

"Are you quite certain you are of the male genome, Rhapsodos? Never have I met a mortal man quite so poetic."

"Then perhaps you should rephrase the question to 'Are you certain you are a mortal man?' because, yes, I am quite certain of the other," the ex-SOLDIER replies cheekily.

* * *

The executioner no-more wakes to the still night between his like-winged lover and ophidian (tor)mentor, the stars opening their eyes back at him from the half dilapidated roof. He wants to sleep longer, but finds himself unable. Chilled sweat drenches his body, a pain running down every molecule of his being. As he becomes aware, Genesis stirs beside him, an unknown energy connecting them, the same eerie way it once had with Echidna. "What?" the redhead asks gruffly, voice sodden with sleep.

"This is why I know you are not immortal," Echidna mocks from his other side. "Look to his eyes."

The winged man obeys, looking to the pupils of a cat, shifting from thin to wide and back rather than a human. "He's changing?"

"Little by little, yes, he is. Who do you think would be able to claim him?"

"I know of three capable of the task. But none of them would. They care too much for him. Cloud, calm down," the ex-SOLDIER orders.

"You cannot rightfully tell him to do so. You remember what it was like, surely?"

"I remember it was worse resisting," Genesis replies ominously, glaring to the immortal. He resents her vastly, one who was born such could never understand such pain.

Genesis strips the blond, filling the basin. The water is mostly warm, yet Cloud shivers. The mirror fogs, memories and humanity getting locked on the other side, asphyxiating.

* * *

"You must have been pretty sure that was going to work, considering I could have died."

"About 90 percent."

"90 percent?" the blond asks.

The redhead turns questioningly at the tone, receiving a harsh smack to his face. "What was that for?" Genesis yelps, a hand reaching for the mark, more from shock than injury.

"The missing ten percent," Cloud replies, a scowl marring ethereal features, walking to the exit of the drafty lodge.

"You do realize what happens if you leave here, no?"

"Of course I realize," the incubus replies darkly. "You're welcome to tag along as well, though it must be a tough choice at this point: between a dead immortal and an parasitic one," he adds.

"Not at all. I am only forced to ponder: do you love him so?"

"...If I had to choose between living and loving him, my choice would be to tell him I love him with my dying breath."

"I see...in that case: I shall not interfere. Do what you must and... And return safely."

The incubus smiles softly, unseen by the redhead behind him. A smile for the closest thing to a love that could never again be. A smile for a love that perhaps never was to begin with... "I will."

* * *

_Take to the sky and live free;_  
_Cast away wings- man,_  
_But prisoner eternal_

_The price of freedom-  
Ever steepest in expense-  
Morals become null_

_Your quest for answers,_  
_Once come to pass, is selfish_  
_In definite truth_

_A hated atrocity_  
_Or healer of worlds?_  
_In the name of the Goddess,_

_I ask your intent_

* * *

"You cannot be here," the silveret remarks uneasily.

"Can't be here, can't go to the Lifestream. Tell me, Sephiroth, _is_ there a place I can exist?"

"You could be caught. They would kill you if they found you here."

"I could be killed anywhere if someone found me. What difference does it make where it happens?" Cloud shrugs.

"I suppose it makes none, though I'd rather not witness your execution. Or perpetrate it, for that matter," the general states coolly.

"You know, I always thought you were too pretty to kill. Why become a murderer when you could be a model? But I get it...I understand, now; you're just a Shin-Ra lapdog. You can't choose anything for yourself. And... whatever you do -whoever you kill...- you don't have to think about it. Orders are your life, and nothing else matters. Who you kill, why you kill them...it's not your job to think about things like that. That's someone else's job. You... you are a puppet. But, I still love you. No matter how low you or I sink, I'll never stop."

The silveret remains silent. Just long enough to let it sink in and siphon it out. "You're really going to stay with him? With Genesis?" he finally asks, quietly.

"What choice is there? Besides; it's not as if you have a problem with it."

"No," the general agrees, perhaps too quickly, missing the facetious expression of the blond's turned face. "I just never figured you were one for missionary style."

All mischievousness drops at the vague insult, but Cloud merely shakes his head. "There is still so much you have yet to understand... All in due time, love. For now the only thing you might comprehend is: I learned early the art of forsaking my own preference quickly after finding I have most control on my knees."

A flutter of wings and the imp is gone again. Leaving Sephiroth alone for more times that week than the silveret would like to recall.

* * *

"You don't seem to understand, Zackary," the general states, younger mewling against the wall. "Not everything is about sex. This is," he provides, gripping hips with violent affection. "But not everything."

Really, it isn't though. At least, not to Sephiroth. It's more about distancing emotions. Angeal had seen it only a few times, and mostly when they were younger; when the silveret had been angry with Gast or with another SOLDIER. He hadn't seen his lover with that look since pale hair clashed horribly with maroon 3rd gear. But he remembered the expression well, and knew they would be visiting a very sore -even if pleased- Zack Fair at the infirmary some time tomorrow. If it went on like this, Angeal could very well wind up in the next bed over.

* * *

A/N: Jeez, Seph, aggressive much? Well, that's a wrap. Next chapter on Tuesday.

No new reviews, I guess... So, encourage questions and reviews keep stories going.


	8. Fruition

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

"Faith, dear. Do you honestly believe I would allow your death after everything?"

"I don't know anymore, Gene, after all your mood swings, is there a reason I _shouldn't_ be thinking that?"

"If he is living still, I assure you needn't fret. And if he's dead, that shouldn't be a problem, either."

"You said he's been in here how long, again?"

"Let's see... It was just before Sephiroth was born, so twenty-five years."

"What makes you think he's still alive after twenty-five years, exactly?"

"He's supposedly immortal. It's time to see if that was a fair claim. A rotting corpse means no, and a twenty-seven year old means we have a full party. That is: if you are..._convincing _enough." Cloud spares an uncomfortable glance, shivering in the chilled air of the basement before taking a step toward the coffin at the center. A few moments of leisurely steps that the blond would have preferred not to take finds one tense Cloud Strife pushing the lid from a casket. _Fifty-two? He certainly doesn't _look _fifty-two... Okay, okay, relax, start breathing...not that I really need to..._ he reaches a hand to the pale face...translucent, as if the man had never seen a day of sun.

"Ah!"

"Who dares disturb our slumber?" the stranger inquires voice rasped with years of inactivity. His golden armored hand loosens around Cloud's, a surge of unintentional pheromones rushing the ravenet's senses, but he doesn't let go.

"We've come to enlist your services."

"I do not work alongside others. If you must accomplish a task, it is best accomplished yourself. Leave me to repent."

Cloud takes a moment to admire the slightly antiqued fashion the elder uses to speak. It's not particularly noticeable, but enough to make it clear: Valentine had indeed been in repose a great deal of time. "What are you repenting for?"

"My beloved...I was unable to save her. She was used in a human experiment, and gave birth to a child with inhuman DNA... That was just before I was confined here."

"So you have a twenty-five year old child?" Cloud asks, a suspicious glance to his partner. The traits would be all wrong, but then again, if the DNA wasn't all human, he could be Genesis'-

The oldest male lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Who said they were mine? No, I had never been with the professor in that way; I had a much deeper level of love and respect for her. I have kept you further from your goal, please continue and leave me here to repent," he requests, finally letting go of the teen's hand and sliding the coffin's lid back into place.

"He won't remember this tomorrow, we'll just have to come back," the ex-SOLDIER shrugs.

* * *

"Just know...I'm looking down at you, smiling. Do not mourn my absence, rejoice; you hear me now," Cloud comforts.

_"Cloud? I'm not sure what's happening anymore... What is real?"_

"The lies can't touch you, but the truth will."

_"I'm so confused. What have you been doing all this time?"_

"Assembling the actors. The stage is nearly set."

_"...I just can't understand you. It's like you're in a different world from me,"_ the silveret says.

The incubus smiles, gliding down to the ground. "Turn around, love." The elder complies, nearly dropping his phone at the sight of his reborn lover. "I assure you, we are in the same world," the executioner-gone-rogue murmurs, tossing away his own temporary phone.

"You look...different..."

"I suppose I must. But I haven't changed a lot from this, have I?" he questions, gesturing to the leathery protrusion flaring his back. "Well, there is one more thing..."

"What might that be?"

The teen clears the distance between he and his inamorato, one hand reaching up to cup his face and the other around his waist to seize the rest of him. "I wake no more to the dead I had loved at my side," he whispers, pulling his lover to his level, soft brushing lips becoming bruising kisses, slowly but definitely lungs aching to breathe the breath of the other. They simply can't find a way to pull apart, as if the touch of the other is the only thing keeping them alive. Nothing can stand between them; there is no way to deny a love so long repressed. There were so many strings of words they had never said, so many things that they no longer need to say, the lightest touch is unyielding information. Though Cloud had been in the arms of so many others, it's as if Sepiroth is his other soul, the only person he can love completely. Every invisible line the incubus had ever drawn is suddenly erased, every line that should never be crossed is gone and the artist blends their bodies together instead, the way they were supposed to be. It was all so strange to the youth, to be able to touch someone without fear of death as a direct result. It isn't sorrow he feels with the sun forsaking he and his lover. This is because he knows he will wake beside a warm body at the return of the sun, gently prodding the pair awake.

They had pulled away long enough to tuck away a wing, traveling in hurried leisure to Cloud's room at the passable inn.

A curious hand runs the span of dark wing, a shiver working down Cloud's spine. It is smoother than the general had imagined, without much indentation yet still thick and strong. "No one's ever touched it..."

"I wouldn't imagine so; you've not had it long."

"Don't you hate it? Isn't it detestable?..."

"It is unique. It is yours, and -as everything about you- I love it," the silveret contradicts, running the back of his hand against the appendage. He pulls the blond's shirt carefully over the expanse, taking his time to be gentle and admire Cloud's form. The incubus had never been considered well muscled, not by any standard, but there were muscles, nonetheless. Subtle, soft, slim. Yet, for all the lack of over-dramatized masculinity the elder was used to, he finds Cloud equally appealing, if not more so.

The incubus feels everything intensified, as if discovering his senses for the first time. His former superior is everywhere at once, and nothing escapes Cloud. For the first time in...perhaps the entirety of either of his lives, the incubus finds there is nothing wrong with 'missionary.' He doesn't mind being able to see the face of the person above him, at least not if that person is Sephiroth. Doesn't mind wrapping himself around slender hips. Doesn't mind not being face-down on a mattress.

* * *

_He stayed there for hours  
__Watching, waiting, listening  
__He knew only me_

_A change in heart rate  
Bodies entwining as snakes  
Release impending_

_Searching the other  
For a love we didn't know,  
Living in our souls_

_I grant permission  
As the moon always had done;  
I let him inside_

_We light a candle  
To chase away the angels  
Who dare to watch us_

* * *

Cloud wakes before his partner. For once, not because his partner won't be waking, but simply because he wakes up first. He feels Sephiroth's warmth, a heart beating from one chest to the next, soft and slow. He muses how the general can't seem to multitask even while sleeping, so focused on his dream he can't sleep-talk and only vaguely seems to remember how to breathe -exhaling slowly and not inhaling for a few moments. It would probably be awful to try breathing like that in a nightmare. Actually, Genesis had told him once about some type of apnea once, hadn't he?...

"Oh, you're awake," he says sleepily, realizing he must have been looking at the jade of the other's eyes for some time.

"Hn," the older man hums in confirmation.

"I have to go soon."

"I know... Just not yet."

"Seph..."

"Just a little while. I know you aren't used to seeing your partners in the morning very long, but it can be nice, sometimes, too."

"You callin' me a whore?" the blond jests.

"Not exactly. I'd say more...well rounded."

"So I'm fat, now?"

"Is there no winning with you?"

"Probably not like this. But, hey, if we could have a repeat last night I might just pretend you won," he entices, grazing the perfect skin with clawed hands, angry red lines objecting the rough treatment.

"You're on."

* * *

"You're la- Cloud, you're glowing!"

"Uh...thank you?"

"No, I mean your skin is luminescent. Literally, you're emitting a source of light," Genesis explains, inspecting the younger. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine; get off of me," the incubus assures, pulling away.

"If you're certain... Come, we must collect Valentine."

A flash of recognition passes over the ex-turk's gaunt features, but he can't seems to remember why. "Who are you?" he asks this time.

"I'm Cloud. We've come to ask you to join us."

"I cannot, I must repent," Vincent refuses.

_I wonder if he ever talks about anything else..._ Cloud thinks. "Maybe you could repent someplace else? You know, instead of in a coffin?" the blond suggests, tempering the other's hormones.

"...Perhaps," the man agrees after a moment.

He flinches at the sunlight, crimson eyes narrowing in distaste. It was more obvious than ever in the presence of complete mortals: Vincent Valentine had not been in human company for a very long time. The ex-Turk doesn't talk a whole lot, leading the incubus to think repentance really is the only thing on his mind. Then again, if he ever let anything happen to Sephiroth, he would probably act the same way, two decades in a coffin or not.

"Everything is nearly ready."

"Not everything, Gene."

"Of course, I suppose there is that... But on my terms, we are almost completely prepared."

Vincent stays silent as ever, staring blankly at the two behind clasped hands. Whatever they were doing, whatever their plan was, it's none of his concern. He's strictly along for the ride. All that talk about the 'gift of the Goddess' doesn't interest him.

* * *

A/N: I waited as long as I dared to post this chapter waiting for reviews, but i never got any more, so, here it is.

Guest: Thank you for your ongoing support (if you are indeed the same person). I'm glad you enjoyed the previous chapter ^_^

Review mean faster updates!


	9. Redefine Perfection

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.  
_**Bold: **_Chaos _Italicized: _Vincent

* * *

"That is...mildly disturbing," the keeper expresses, staring intently at the bodies of the incubus and his previous 'meal.' As if he thinks wishing it less so would make it such.

_**I would be doing that, too if you weren't containing me...**_Chaos mopes.

_Well, in nature cats grow thousands of tiny spines on their genitals because they didn't get neutered. It's no less disgusting just because it's natural._

**_So you want him_** _**neutered?!**_ The demon asks, horrified.

_That is _not_ what I said..._

"I'm used to it. I wouldn't be able to heal without doing that, after all," the blond shrugs, covering the human.

"Shouldn't you dress him?" the ravenet asks, incredulous.

"Agreeable as that would be," the feathered man starts, pushing from the wall. "We haven't the time. Leave that to whoever finds him. It sounds insensitive, I'm sure, but there is no helping it; we must continue."

"What are you trying to accomplish, anyway?"

"We have a few goals... To end degradation, to kill Echidna the rest of the way, and the last one is the very thing you're after:"

"To annihilate the gods."  
"To terminate the gods."  
"To stop the gods," they say together. "That way no one will hurt Sephiroth," Cloud continues.

If possible, Vincent pales further at the name, but it goes unnoticed by the other two. Cloud's email alert goes off, producing distasteful looks on every somewhat living face in the room.

* * *

"This test was made by humans, you know. But when it was introduced to the Fae, they realized there wasn't any harm in it for most of us. After all, if the bullet lands on us, not much happens but a bit of pain. The humans would leave the Fae, with the thought they would die, but of course that's not how it went down. The same night, the Fae would find all the humans who participated, leading them to death. Last is the door of death. Mortals often claim nothing can hurt a dead man... But that is not so, is it, Cloud?" the childhood friend asks, the gun clicking at his chest hollowly.

"Depends on how dead they are, I guess. Plenty can hurt the _un_dead, but if you're six deep, well, even if the past isn't through with you if you're sleeping in a coffin what are you gonna hear?" he asks, pulling the trigger. No bullet. He offers it to his left. "What about you, Kunsel? Got the guts?" The man looks uneasy. "Just playing; this is an immortals' game," he cocks the gun again, shooting the Lamia directly in the chest. "Looks like you lose, Johnny. Go hatch some other plot to get Tifa. And next time: leave my friends out of it or I'll do a lot worse than a bullet to the heart," the incubus threatens darkly.

"What kind of Fae are you?"

"Were you really raised with other Lamia? It's rude to ask, you know. C'mon Kuns, let's mosey."

"What was that about?!" the SOLDIER asks once outside.

"I was retrieving you," the blond states blandly.

"That's not what I meant."

"I suppose it was mostly about revenge," the blond muses.

"Revenge? No one should ever seek revenge! It just messes things up worse," Kunsel says, self-assured.

Cloud stops a moment. "Kunsel...have you ever been betrayed by some one without ever knowing why? Because if you haven't don't talk about revenge like that..." he pushes past, straddling the bike. "You walking?"

* * *

_Revenge is sweetest_  
_Whether served warm or cold_  
_We contemplate it_

_In times of sorrow,  
Of desperation or need  
We often seek it_

_Ever since that time  
My life had only known my  
Despairing partner:_

_Revenge_

_Who brought me only  
Sadness materialized  
Would you call it wrong?_

_Hiding inside the  
Martyr's pose with dead roses  
Starved and withered down_

_Everyone knew it:  
No matter how justified  
She was the killer_

_That they labeled me  
_

* * *

"It's been a while...Cloud," Angeal greets. He doesn't seem as shocked as one would think, but then again: he's Angeal, the incubus must reminds himself.

"I suppose it has... But a while will no longer pass so forsaken for you. You are beloved by us; you are perfect. Can you feel it, Angeal? The second hand crushing the throat of your humanity; the trigger hand of demi-godliness creeping down your back, seducing you to our way? Because I can see it dying in you to be reborn as one of us. Join us, as an ally, a friend...a lover."

"Don't misunderstand: just because I understand doesn't mean I care. And just because you aren't dead right now doesn't mean we're on the same side. What are you two thinking? You realize everyone is on high alert for you two? That if the Turks find you you're done?"

"I'm open to falling from grace. In fact...I already have," the youth smiles darkly, splaying his wing out to the open air of the mostly abandoned house. "You have one, too. I feel it, Angeal, trying to rip free from what you've been taught is the 'good' side. Don't be better than you want to be. Redefine 'perfection!' That is your true potential, to be as we are; to be flawless. Together we will seek the gift and slay the gods -freeing the Goddess and saving Sephiroth!"

The elder shuts his eyes tightly. He _does_ want to save Sephiroth...but at what cost?

"You are conflicted, I see. I leave this task to Genesis; I suppose he is better suited."

"Cloud, Wait..."

"Have you decided?"

"I'll go with you... We'll save Sephiroth...and we'll save you."

Cloud shakes his head, a whimsical smile turning the corners of his mouth. "I am too far gone to save, darling. But help save my love, and I can still feel alive."

* * *

A/N: So, I'm sure this answered the big question: what are those two after, but dropped the bigger question: why does Cloud have to be sacrificed? And what's his thing with revenge? Well, it all comes together soon, this won't be as cliffhangingly horrible as the original FFVII.

Sis: Thank you for your awesome set of reviews, it got this chapter up sooner (though it probably ended up shorter...ah, well, hope you enjoyed it anyway!)

I really kind of like the broken haiku lines I've been doing, but what do you guys think? does it need to stop?


	10. He Once Loved

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

"'I sacrifice my vanity, yet still you seek me out. I do not behave as ladies would, yet still you come around. Of all my imperfections, you still see only me. I've waited all my life for this; is it love? How could this be?'"

"Let me guess, that's where the story ends?" Cloud asks after a moment's silence.

"There is an extended ending, but Yulyen never translated it. He claimed that when he went to translate it, he had gotten more experience as a writer and realized that explicitly saying whatever Kahn decided and going through the whole process was completely unnecessary, and instead leaves the reader with the image of Kahn distressing over the fact that Mobius clearly loves him, even after he sheds his qipau and cosmetics, revealing he is a man. He wanted readers to use their own imaginations to find a happy or not-so-happy ending."

The incubus thinks a moment. "I think Kahn did love Mobius."

"Why's that?" Genesis asks, intrigued.

"Well, in the beginning, he was telling him about how the other costumers didn't treat he and the ladies right, and how he appreciated the kindness. Then his inner thoughts about being so flustered with Mobius' hands on him -I don't think he would have just been so embarrassed about it if he didn't at least like Mobius, after all, he'd left the room with all the other guys like that. Not to mention, he'd been starved for romance his entire life, any love he's ever felt was friendship to the geisha; of course he would fall for Mobius, who loved him no matter what."

"You've read a lot into this. I'm...impressed..."

"Oh, sorry, I rambled..."

"No, it was good. You normally haven't said much about what you thought of these stories until now, it seems you're starting to form opinions of your own."

"Um...thank you, Gene..."

Angeal cuts in: "You and Zack were from such backwater towns; you didn't get the experience of learning this stuff in school. He really is complimenting you."

Vincent stays silent. He doesn't mind, though. It had been a long time since he'd heard that story. _Have Your Way with Me_ had come out when he was barely a teenager; he remembered sneaking it into his room and reading it in secret.

_**What drove you to read it, anyway?**_

_I was a rebellious teenager, it was a controversial book, and my mother disapproved of it, of course I was going to read it._

**_...Do you think Kahn loved Mobius?_**

_What, you actually listened to all that?_

**_... ... ...It's better than listening to your depressing whining all day..._**

_Huh, the demon cares about something,_ the cloaked man teases. It's not often he gets such opportunity. Vincent had never been considered cruel by anyone, with perhaps the exception of Hellmasker when he wanted to rampage, but Chaos was long overdue for a dose of perspective.

_**You didn't answer me...**_

_You were serious? _The demon stays quiet. _Oh... Well, I suppose. I remember at least wanting for Kahn to love him back... Why do you care about romantics all of a sudden?_

**_It's not exactly 'all of a sudden,' sweet. I've been in your head for...how long? Twenty so years now? And you've forgotten our every encounter mere hours after they occurred, sleeping away in that confounded coffin. You don't know as much about me as you might think. In fact, I know more about you than you do. No, this is not recent. I've often pondered the romantics of your past race, and you've polluted my mind so I understand._**

_...You should think about that type of thing with other demons._

Chaos remains silent.

Vincent looks up, suddenly noticing the blond's lack of voice, only to find the aforementioned's eyes locked on his, glowing blue seeking burning scarlet, couriers to relay a soft message: '_I can hear him._' Cloud shivers from the tickling sensation of the eldest man's cape brushing him during his exit. "I'll be right back..."

The younger ravenet looks to Genesis questioningly, but he only shakes his head in response, Autumn rowan strands swaying. Angeal sees him for a moment. Really sees him, the way he had when they were children. Remembers how he fell in love with him, remembers nothing was sexual -but merely curious- about the other boy...

* * *

_He was in a tree,  
__Far above, much too_ _high_  
_For me_

_He looked down  
And I looked up, too high  
For me  
_

_He called me 'welcome,'  
Beckoned me there, too high  
For me_

_But still, I tried  
And so I fell, too hard  
For me_

_Then he rushed down  
And panicked, too alarmed  
For me_

_He carried me home  
And kissed every scrape, just right  
For me_

* * *

Cloud stands near the tall man, not too close and not too far, enough to make his presence known. "What do you think?" Vincent asks suddenly, looking to him.

"A-about what?"

"Born demons, lusting after humans... No, more than that; born demons wanting companionship with humans," the crimson-eyed man clarifies, looking to the juvenescent eyes of the younger.

They just stare like that a while, the youth contemplating his answer. "I...I don't think it's ridiculous or wrong or anything. Just...a little strange. Like realizing someone loves you for the first time. It's shocking, but it's still love. And love is a gift, even when you don't have the same kind to give back," he finally answers with something like determination. The carmen-clad man turns away, and makes a soft, unknown sound. _He's _laughing_ at_ _me! _Cloud realizes."Did I say something funny?"

"I suppose not. It's just...that look about you, or maybe the way you said it. You were so serious. Everyone else I've ever known was too scientific to talk like that about love. It was unexpected. But also...kind of nice. Thank you, Cloud; I'll be able to think about it properly now."

"Sure..."

* * *

"Everyone's gone...just...gone," the younger sighs. "You won't leave, will you?"

Sephiroth had never been one for lying. Never really saw the point; it usually backfires. But he knows that if he says 'I don't know,' it wouldn't do a very good job to comfort the young SOLDIER. One small white lie couldn't hurt, could it? "No, Zack. I'm right here."

The teen looks up. "You've never called me that, before."

"Was I not supposed to?"

"No, no, it's fine. It's better; less formal."

'I'm right here.' That's what he said. But if his criminal lover asked him to join them, he really doesn't know what he would say...

And it's no less than a metaphorical slap in the face to see the blond the very next day. "Cloud," he vocalizes in acknowledgement.

"Hello, love..."

"Why do you sound so..."

"So what, Sephiroth?"

"Whimsical, I suppose..."

"I just...I don't know anymore... I don't have much time so I wanted to see you, at least one more time."

"One more time? What do you mean 'One more time?!'"

"It will all come together soon, Seph. Just hold me for now, won't you?"

* * *

_My boy leaves corpses,  
__So I dig up all the graves  
__To find the lovers  
__He once loved  
__And kiss away his pains_

_Oh, how strange, our love  
The clearest revelation  
The undertaker  
And undead,  
In such lewd relation_

_I build him coffins-  
Boxes thrown into the ground-  
Such pretty things to  
Think about  
With all their secrets bound_

_It's not just my job  
And certainly not for play  
To dress his feelings  
Nicely and  
To send them to the grave_

_Walk the cemetery  
To see all the cracking stones  
Watch him in that dress  
Dead men hate  
And feel his shaking bones_

_Visit the wardrobe  
Where his skeletons reside  
Pick a decent one  
To dance with  
And from the world to hide_

* * *

He's crying. Sephiroth knows; he doesn't need to see. Lungs that don't need air shaking the cages around them and the blond trembling in his grasp, even as the adolescent pushes his partner farther into himself. A whimper, that's all it really takes for the gates to open, and the teen is a sobbing wreck. The silveret caresses his face, knowing just how to soothe his illegal lover even in the ink-like darkness. "Don't stop...Sephiroth...please, keep going." Cloud didn't follow enough rules before he came to see his inamorato. He remembered: Don't kiss train wrecks, but knives are okay. Wear lip balm if you absolutely must kiss the knife. Only let clean knives in your chest, as rusted ones will cause infection. He just forgot a rather important rule: Don't let the knife leave with a piece of your heart...

He wants to be to the right of every vulgar and loving verb his long-haired lover knows, and he can think of a more than a few good prepositions, but he needs to stop crying if he wants it to go right. Sephiroth wonders if this is his fault. Or maybe some of the other people they've loved... Genesis, who fell in love with the lion and lost all sense of fear. Zack, who falls in love right now with the tightrope and nothing seems to get him high enough. Maybe even the blond below him, who is just too damaged not to accept love of any kind. What would have happened if he had met them all a little sooner? Before everyone's souls had gotten so beaten up? Maybe they would all still be together... But he doesn't know the first thing about fate; doesn't know the Goddess would still have to be saved because they love him so much, especially Cloud. Oh how they love him... A tragic sort of love; a love that always seems to fall apart.

"Please, Seph, I'm fine. Move."

And he does, kissing slowly every piece of body reachable in the current position.

The main verb he wants Cloud in front of is 'love.'

* * *

A/N: Romantic chapter! Kind of sad...but so is the rest of the story.

Thank you, all my supporters. By the way, we've passed 2,000 views! But only a little over half made it further than the first chapter... Still counts, though! Kudos to anyone who figures out the pattern to Angeal's poem (hint: no, I don't mean his repeated line, though, yes, that is a pattern.)

Hope you enjoyed!


	11. Keeper and Kept

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

Sephiroth can't understand it. Not so much that it's complicated, he could comprehend that his youngest lover had left. And quite a while ago, if the temperature of the bed were anything to go by. But why? Why was he always left alone? Maybe the young ravenet should promise not to leave, instead... He soothes his forehead with the back of his hand, hoping the peace offering would pacify the war behind his eyes. Unfortunately, the fire in his skull refused to be so easily asphyxiated. He wanders down the stairs, half dressed and fully aloof to that fact. By the end of the descent, he finds the only other First -with his head on the table, lightly drooling and much more than lightly intoxicated. "Zack." The youth stirs, but doesn't wake, nestling further into folded arms. He decides that inebriated company is better than no company, he gently rocks the SOLDIER. A bit of unintelligible -at least on Zack's end- and Sephiroth helps him maneuver to the ebony-haired youth's bed, the aforementioned boy whining for him to stay in such a way that he forgets ibuprofen all together.

Now they can both have migraines come time for work...

* * *

"Are you sure this is okay? I could just get Angeal down here, he wouldn't mind," Cloud offers, dirt dusting his exposed skin in a way that might have been adorable if not for the task at hand.

"I've done much worse in the ranks of the Turks, child. This is fine," the gunner replies.

"I don't know why you think I'm a child. After all, I enlisted in the military already; that's basically coming of age where I'm from."

"I'm over three times you're age. You might as well be a toddler to me."

"Yeah, well compared to some of your dark companions, you may as well be a fetus," the incubus jests.

The elder man looks up, an almost-smirk touching the corners of his mouth, conveying the message: 'You shouldn't have gone there.' "And what -pray tell- would they see you as? A sperm cell?"

The blond moves a hand from his shovel in a gesture of defeat. "Hey, at least I got the fun part," he shrugs.

They take a moment to stare, the first real smile Cloud has seen from the other man showing. Vincent honestly enjoys the youth's company. Perhaps from the pheromones, the attributes, or the most likely fact that they simply had the right personalities to get along well -the keeper doesn't mind. The moment stretches...and stretches...and stretches until it's much longer than the appropriate time to be reveling in a simple happy moment between friends. It stretches a little further until the carmen-clad keeper realizes this fact, clearing his throat and turning away. The imp rolls his eyes skyward, an endearing smile for his embarrassed partner. "Have you thought about it anymore?" he asks, effectively changing the topic out of mercy for the other. "About Chaos, I mean."

The crimson gunman bestows his tongue to the feline, answering with a few beats of silence. He finally gives a verbal answer, but enunciates it so blended and quiet even the teen's enhanced hearing can't pick it up.

"What was that?"

The tenebrous Demi takes a breath, a deep breath, as if preparing for a strenuous task. "I think I care for him," he says, more clearly this time.

"You think? I guess you haven't thought about it enough, yet."

"...I _do_ care for him; I'm just not sure if that's due to me caring for him, or my knowing he cares for me. I doubt that was any help to your enlightenment."

"No, that makes a lot of sense, actually. Caring for someone because they care for you... I've never thought of that, before."

* * *

_Guileless with words,  
__Yours are futile to help me;_  
_I shan't understand_

_Demons don't love men  
Did the rules suddenly change?  
What does it all mean?  
_

_It's so confusing  
Many possibilities;  
Why are your eyes here?_

_What captivates you?  
I'm cert'nly not appealing,  
Not to the devils_

_Why present this curse,  
Dressed as a gift, a blessing,  
New sin to repent?_

_What is this shock wave?  
Two thousand volts to my head,  
My body, and heart_

_It all aches for love  
Now it's here, can I have it?  
Is it truly love?_

* * *

_**Humans; so complex  
**_**_Spend their lives yearning for love  
__Yet reject my own_**

**_Why torture me so?  
Could mine be inferior?  
How is it different?_**

**_I can understand  
I can solve the equation  
I stole your text book  
_**

**_I studied all night  
I listened to the lectures  
And showed up for class_**

**_Never missed a day  
Not for you, my sweet, my dear,  
Beautiful Vincent_**

**_I know the terms,  
I took the tests and passed them,  
Was that not enough?_**

**_I worked hard for you,  
I wrote an exposition  
All for you to see...  
_**

_[See what?]_

**_How much I love you  
Had I a soul, I'd sell it  
To be part of you_**

_[Aren't you now?]_

**_To be close to you,  
One with you, to know your love,  
Show you affection_**

**_Demons can love, too  
Can love pure, and deep, and true  
S'long as you teach us_**

_[Teach you?]_

**_Yes, please instruct me  
How defenseless are you, Vince?  
Show it all to me_**

**_You can cease this love  
No more than the burning of the sun  
Or Gaia's turning_**

**_Do not fear or fret,  
Take my hand and join this dance  
_****_You humans call 'Love'_**

**_He is blind, you see;  
Guileless to tradition,  
He accepts us all_**

* * *

"Do you think he'll come?"

"Sephiroth? Yes, I know he will," the redhead answers.

"How do you know?" Angeal passes a quizzical look to his lover.

"I have...shall we say: _arrangements_. Trust me; he'll come. Maybe unknowingly, but he'll be there. One way, or another," he explains, polishing the poinsettia blade.

"I don't even want to know..." the sable-haired man decides verbally.

"That's good, because you would scold me if you knew."

"What did you do?" he asks, voice suspicious and accusing.

"Ah, ah, ah; you don't want to know, remember?" They share a wry smile. "Come over here," the redhead demands in a husky whisper.

"What?"

"Am I speaking Wutainese? Your body; displace it from that area and get your stubborn, stubbly face over here."

"But...Cloud and Vincent-"

"-Will be gone plenty long enough for this," he interrupts fiercely.

What kind of honorable gentleman would Angeal be to fight such perfect logic?

* * *

A/N: Well, this is late... With good reason, my partner edits these for me, but he's not here, so...well, I'm sure there're plenty of mistakes to show you what that means (English is not my first language...). But it was already so late, I just had to post it. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, at least Vinnie's figuring things out... And hey, Ange and Gene got some sexy time xD


	12. Frozen Hell

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

Zack hates the cold. Born to the dry land of Gongaga in the precise middle of June during an intense heatwave, nothing is appealing to him about giant masses of condensed water floating in the sky over a city to keep out the sun, raining its guts onto the surface of the earth. Especially when its guts make that horrible crunching sound as you step on it, or when it covers your pants and shoes, making them all soggy when it melts, or when it starts melting and gets you wet _even faster, _or that ugly brown color when it gets dirty. Not appealing at _all_. And if he is trying to hide how discomforted he is by the cold biting his arms and face, he's doing an awful, _awful_ job of it.

This is only made worse by his restless pacing when there isn't enough room to be pacing in the squad car. When that doesn't satisfy his nervous need, he begins his nervous squats. The poor form he uses makes the general wonder exactly _how_ his thighs became so toned, because they certainly didn't come from _that_ lazy form. "Settle down," the silveret demands gently when his young subordinate loses his balance from the truck hitting a particularly deep groove.

"Sorry," the teen apologizes subserviently.

Sephiroth had always pictured he'd make this trip with Cloud, some day. Meet his mother, childhood friends and everything. See what makes a quiet country boy and anti-social adolescent into a shy soldier and amazing lover. Zack had wanted to do the same, of course, confirming this pre-departure. Though that might have been a bad idea if Shin-Ra employees were driving. Or if anyone at all were driving, for that matter. "Do you remember Costa del Sol, Zack? Because I remember Costa del Sol," he'd replied, hiding the fact that he, too, wanted the blond to be with them. Cloud had spent nearly the entirety of the first day of vacation in the hotel room, clutching his stomach, having grown up in a town that owned a total of one vehicle. And a total of zero operational vehicles. For the first time in his memory, Sephiroth feels the symptoms of the rocking vehicle the valetudinarian had spoken of. Feels the acid sloshing around his stomach, burning the base of his throat.

* * *

It's an eerie thing. To wake up to someone staring at you so intently. So sinister, sensual, seductive. A way that might have been appealing, if he weren't waking up to someone's face so close to his. Instead of arousal, Vincent's reaction is: "Fucking Hell!" leaping back so gracelessly it shouldn't have been possible to land on his feet. The blond laughs openly. "What was that for?" the gunner scowls.

"I didn't want to wake you up. The others already left, but you looked so peaceful, it would have been a sin to wake you, looking like that."

"Suddenly you're against sin and waking people in a customary fashion?" the keeper asks, clearly not amused and clearly not buying it.

"Maybe I should have taken a picture, shown you how pretty it was. Oh, wait...I did," he says, mock-evil.

The inky haired quinquadgenarian narrows his eyes, glaring at the small screen the fair haired youth presents him, unconcealed distaste the youngster's antics. "Chill, it's not like I'm going to touch myself to it... Well, I mean, I guess I could; you didn't age poorly at all. But, the point is: if I do, you won't know about it."

"You wouldn't."

"How do you know? I've still got a day or two for self-love," he counters deviously.

"I know because you would just get someone else to touch you."

The pale boy raises his hands in surrender. "I suppose I can't deny that, can I?"

"You didn't do this to tease me," the elder points out, as if in realization. "You're stalling; I can tell. I also know almost certainly it's not about the sacrifice, the way you seem to feel about saving your lover. What has you hesitant all of a sudden?"

Cloud waits so long to answer, Vincent surmises he won't, until: "...Nibelheim is...it's my home town. My mother lives there, but I'm not sure if I should see her before we confront the gods..." the incubus enlightens somberly.

He gunner approaches the youth, cautiously taking his hand, searching for signs to let go. Finding none, he asks: "What happened?" without impatience, exasperation, or even the hint of a querulous tone.

"I... It doesn't matter. What's there to say to her, anyway? 'Hey, Ma, know it's been a while. Didn't make SOLDIER, but some scientist spliced me up, so I'm a demon now. Oh yeah, and over the course of the year, I've fucked over one-hundred prisoners of war -literally- to death'?" he finishes.

"...You have a day or two -you know, so you can think of your mother while you pleasure yourself to that picture of me-" he jests, "to think about it. If you don't want to talk to her, don't do it. Even if you think it's the 'right thing to do,' you don't have to do anything you don't want to... But you should probably stop trying to hide that lovely voice when you are this emotional. You sound like the automated answering machine on my old phone," he smiles. The blond looks up, before abruptly trapping the tall man with his arms, face buried in his tattered, scarlet cloak. The gunman stills a moment, deciding what to do.

**_He obviously wants you to hug him. And don't do that condescending patting with your wrists. Do you remember how you felt when she did that? I remember how you__ felt..._**

_Would you kindly shut your mouth?_ the sable-haired keeper requests, hesitantly wrapping his arms around the petite blond. His right hand lands in bright gold spikes, he notices how soft it is, his hand uncovered, threading his fingers into the flaxen mess. He notes in comparison how long his own had gotten, creeping as low as his hips in the longer strands. He'd never seen how curly it really was before now, either. In fairness, it is more wavy than anything, but he'd always figured it had been straight until the blond awoke him mere days before.

The hug feels...nice, he decides after a moment of the embrace. Cloud pulls away bashfully, heading to the door.

There are some things Vincent will never understand, he decides, following his companion.

* * *

'Nibel' is certainly a good name for the presentation the soldiers are witnessing. Translating roughly to 'fog,' it's certainly fitting. The oldest is the only one noticing the pattern. The mercury in a nearby rustic thermometer is stubbornly resting itself at the very bottom. Ice crackled underfoot, the leader stopping at the very edge of the buildings, as if sensing the lifeless town's foreboding message: 'a step further and I _will_ change your life. In a horrible, horrible fashion, and you will regret coming here.' But that was absurd. Right? Well, the look of the place doesn't seem to agree with the pearly haired man's nerves, either way.

The ravenet, however, observes no danger, rallying the morale of the other two soldiers. The elder, of course, had seen plenty of Fair the last few weeks and could tell that for all the cheerfulness he shows, it's to raise his own spirit more than anything. A breeze blows their direction and the leader resists the urge to cover himself. He silently decides: this is the worst possible place to wear leather, continuing into the foreboding town of Nibelheim. After checking into the inn, Sephiroth would watch the town fill with an impossible snowstorm for hours, missing the sight of a spiky haired blond entering by moments.

* * *

_It's been much too long  
__Now I'm here, it's much too soon  
__What is there to say?_

_I'd taken my time  
But also hurried here  
Without thinking much_

_At least, not enough  
'As I am' is a stranger  
Even as her son_

_Should I be friendly?  
Maybe not; I'm so unkind  
She has seen it all_

_All that I had been  
She knew what I would become  
Bare to lead the blind_

_Living on drugs  
Of some kind; Heroin eyes  
Maybe another_

_I chose killers' thrills  
Screaming out the devil's trill  
Abomination_

_The differences  
Of my victims and my self  
What defines a man?_

_What does a demon?  
What am I, betwixt the two?  
Have you the answers?_

* * *

Cloud had never been much of a gambler. So, naturally, the roulette of knocking at his mother's door is unwelcome.

He repeats Vincent's words in his mind: _I have time to think. I don't have to. What ever is right does not matter._ He leaves the door. Or, at least, he starts to. But the door opens without his prompting. The incubus freezes. "Cloud? Is that...you?"

He turns slowly to the voice of his mother. "Hey, Ma..."

"Come in, come in," she pleads.

"Ma..." he wants to resist, but few people -with the exception of his father- had ever been able to deny her anything. He follows her inside. It hadn't been that long, not even a year yet, but Claudia Strife...she is definitely older than he left her. Still a vibrant woman. Still beautiful. But she had lost her energy.

"Sit, sit. I'll cook you something, it must have worn you out to come all this way, right?"

The youth doesn't object. Even though he doesn't eat anymore, he knows how his mother gets when she can't do a domestic chore with company around. It stems from the part of her brain that feared getting beaten if the house wasn't immaculate and the guests weren't cared for.

They would be hard to tell apart, if not for the obvious lack of breasts on the younger or the subtle frown lines on the mother. Then again, the gene pool of Nibelheim had grown rather small. Most of the town were related in some way, and this did not escape the incubus' own parents, having many of the same traits and passing them on to their only child. Yet Cloud had always been compared to his mother.

He has to tell her...what he has become.

* * *

The spider is a large one. If Vincent recalls correctly, it also possesses a deadly venom. Fortunately, it seems much more interested in the buzzing fly, maneuvering the room in a loud and obnoxious fashion. The spider's web is symmetrically perfect.

What is perfection? It is unattainable. Yet people seek it all their lives, trying to reach it or at least get as close as possible until the end. Could it be that the ideas of perfection the keeper had been taught his whole life were false?

Love is love, no matter who it's from... That phrase had stuck with him. Love is love, and love is perfection. And he thought perfection was unattainable, but here it is. He feels it. He wants it. He could have it, if he reaches. But will he?...

He's going to forget all of this, if he doesn't die. He'll fall asleep from a new grief and forget the trivial matters, like how Chaos felt. But...is it so trivial? He's not sure anymore. Everything he knew seems to be untrue.

The white-winged man enters the room, silencing all thoughts. The spider in the corner winds the fly tightly, decidedly saving it for later.

* * *

Hands were shaking, voice failing, and yet…and yet in that moment, Cloud is the strongest man in the world… The smile of the October child, who realized long ago: futures will happen without loved ones. And soon, futures will happen without him. That smile had faded some time ago. That smile is not with him. That smile...it no longer belongs to a boy soon to be gone to a world mortals can't see. Genesis pulls him close. "I...I am sorry, you know. I didn't want this for you. I tried to distance myself from you...and that was wrong, because I care for you. But we have a little more time. You should go see Zack, one last time. I know you miss him," The redhead whispers.

"...No...Sephiroth will take care of him. He promised me."

"You're so strong, Cloud. No, I'm serious, I wish I were that brave. When Angeal and I were young...I was always saving him. But, as we got older, the tables flipped. I couldn't do anything without him... We always used to sneak out at night. There was this lake that would freeze over when it got really cold. I fell through one night, through the ice. Everywhere I tried to get through was too thick and I couldn't find the place that had broken. Angeal...he saved my life that night. I told him I wanted to become a hero like him. That night was the first time we kissed. We didn't really know what we were doing, of course," the feathered man laughs. "It was sweet, though. But I'd gotten scared. Eventually, I knew I would never be a hero like Angeal. But, I can save Sephiroth, right? And that's kind of heroic. But, alas, I'm not truly the one sacrificing myself, am I? No, it's you. You are the real hero. That's what I was trying to say, anyway, but it looks like I've rambled."

"If I'm a hero, so are you. After all, I never would have gotten this far without you. 'Besides, no story is not worth hearing,' right?"

"I suppose. You'll get to see him before you die. I promise."

"Thank you, Genesis."

* * *

A/N: **IMPORTANT!** There are going to be two endings to this. Next chapter is the first ending.

History: Yes, this is a sad story, but I'm glad you like it ^_^

Guest: No, Zack won't be left completely alone, as Sephiroth isn't actually joining the cause, but Sephiroth will see some of the events.

Thank you all for supporting this story!


	13. The Goddess and Her Son

Title: Loving Corpses  
Summary: Everyone knows what Cloud is, and they put it to good use. He just wishes that a night of passion didn't always have to be rewarded with waking to another dead lover.  
Warnings: boy/boy, dark themes  
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? Not mine.

* * *

"I won't make you stay, if you don't want to. It's not too late, you realize?" Genesis states. It's really more of a plea, though; he doesn't want the possibility of Angeal dying.

"Did you forget?" he responds. "I promised you; no matter how far away you go, I'll be there, right beside you. And when it's all over, I'll bring you back," he recalls, clasping their hands together. "Your hero, after all."

The redhead looks up for a smile, then down with a pout. "Are we all ready?"

There is a collective agreement and Vincent takes a deep breath quietly. The blond nods slightly to him, reassuring his nerves. He reaches his gauntlet covered hand over his heart, opening his fingers and, by extent, his skin, digging out the protomateria from beneath. The incubus watches in a fascinated sort of horror as bones and muscle and skin mend themselves back together, taking on an extremely light pallor that shouldn't have been possible, wings similar to his own in red stretching from his back, eyes glowing orange, then fulvous amber, then ominous yellow the color of the sun. A clawed hand presents him the bloodied sphere, a rasped voice that is both Vincent's and not Vincent's demanding: "_Take_ _it,_" in a fashion both gentle and harsh.

* * *

Fighting shapeshifting teleporters is always a bad idea. Even with a plan.

Fighting an out of control Chaos is an even worse idea, though.

The minute the elder demon smells the blood of the incubus, it doesn't take much longer for the Furies to be impaled with everything remotely sharp in the chamber, no matter how fast they can teleport. The trio silent as they watch the demon rip out the womens' hearts, presenting them to the seal. The redhead turns to his partner examining the injuries the demi-goddesses had inflicted. It's clear Angeal won't be bringing Genesis home after all this. And Genesis won't be bringing him home, either. The only one who seems to have a chance of survival is Vincent. "We have to keep moving, or Sephiroth will catch up!" the incubus orders, removing his own weapon from Tisiphone, who still writhed and gliding to the seal his demonic companion had broken.

Crossing the border to the next chamber, Cloud sees a familiar sight. Opheotarus turns at the scent of intruders. "You! You smell of the blood of my mother!" the demon screeches, his scaly lower half twitching.

"What a coincidence. We came here for yours, too," the blond taunts, taking up his sword and rushing the beast.

* * *

Upon the sight of wings, Sephiroth left the mission in Zack's hands. He had the suspicion he wouldn't be coming back, but he didn't care. Still doesn't care, in the wake of the dead beasts. He approaches a man resting by a small ferry boat. "Excuse me, has anyone been through here?"

The man turns to his general direction. He realizes the man is blind, seeing his eyes glazed over with white. "You seek the winged men, yes? Two feathered wings, three scaled? They unlocked the Gates, said a friend would come... Your name?" The man asks, a strange accent coating his speech.

"Sephiroth."

"Ah, that is what the leader said. Come, then, they paid a high price to get you back over." The man seems to sense his concern somehow, soothing with: "It takes much more than blindness to forget how to navigate this, fear not."

* * *

_They often say 'seeing is believing,' but how true is that? To watch lovers part this way... I've never seen it before. No one else has shown this kind of attachment to me before..._

**_Say it, Vincent. It's not attachment, it's not just attachment... Say it!_**

Genesis pulls Angeal closer to his chest. "What is wrong with you?! You knew you would die from that!" The redhead yells distressed into the swirling mist around them. "You knew that! But you still...you still..." he breaks off, whimpering.

"I did it because it was worth it. You...you are worth it, Genesis," the ravenet comforts, caressing his lover's face.

_It's...love...right, Chaos? Is that what you're offering me? Because if it is...I can't bare to see you die like that. I would feel...the same way, I'm sure..._

**_Then it's too late to deny me. I would do the same for you, and if you would react that way, you already love me. You cannot halt what you feel, sweet, no human can. Not even one as damaged as you feel. Not even as guarded as you are. When you next awaken, you will see, you will remember these things._**

_...And if we die?..._

**_Child... How you jest! How could you die when you have me?_**

Vincent knows that translates more into 'How could you possibly believe I would let you die?' than anything else. And he is grateful.

* * *

_There was love  
Has always been, and so will stay  
For what it's worth  
_

_Please don't cry  
I chose this, the fault is my own  
For what it's worth_

_I still care  
Enough to give my life for you  
For what it's worth_

_A small sigh  
I'm out of time...But I don't mind,  
For what it's worth_

_A short kiss  
To let you know I'll miss you so,  
For what it's worth_

_Stop those tears;  
The end of life is not painful,  
For what it's worth  
_

_I love you...  
Once more with feeling: I love you  
It's what you're worth_

* * *

Cloud's fists clench and unclench. He tries to keep the water from falling further; they don't need any further breakdown. He feels Angeal's heartbeat fade completely, knows Genesis feels it, too.

Chaos leans down, placing a hand on the redhead's shoulder. By the keeper's request or not, neither know for sure, but they understand and move to the last door, Chaos taking the blade that will be presented to Zack, as per the dead swordsman's wish. Cloud takes a steadying breath, knowing who lie beyond the door and cursing him every second.

"It's been too long, boy. How is your mother?"

"Do not speak of her, you evil bastard," the blond replies venomously.

"Now, now...is that anyway to speak to your dad?"

"You're not my father!" the incubus yells.

"Was it not my seed that produced you? Not my hand that guided you?"

"Shut up! You lost that title, old man."

"_I_ lost my title as a father? If anything, you lost your title as a son. Disrespected me, a completely _heedless_ child to all authority, grow up to commit patricide, then abandon your mother as well." The incubus feels the eyes of his partners on him, but refuses to turn and face them. "Tell me, _son_, what atrocities should I expect of my incarnate these days?"

"Shut _up_! You don't know me!"

"But don't I?" the immortal contradicts, approaching the dull light of the room. Blonde hair falls around the man's waist,the only vaguely effeminate feature of the bear-like god before them, hefting heavy battle axes in each hand. It becomes apparent to Genesis one is meant for physical attack and the other for magic. "I've watched you all this time. Weak. Pliable. Emotional. _Cowardly_, at times. A conniving parasite, a humanoid leech... Oh, sorry, too close to home?" the immortal smirks at his glaring offspring.

"I have strength! If not enough to impress you, enough to defeat you," the youth glowers.

Chaos becomes restless, gripping Death Penalty tight.

"Very well, child," the god begins. "Show me this strength you claim to have," he challenges, raising his axes.

Cloud rushes his father, Genesis hesitantly behind. Chaos fires innumerable rounds from all angles, somehow very few of them causing real damage. The blond youth and ex-SOLDIER reach the reborn man, but the leader appears frozen by this new information.

_Cloud had already killed his father once, and was about to do so again._

_Clash!_

The redhead starts to move, his stance unsure._ And his father...had risen to the top of the Gods?_

_Clash, clash!_

_And what exactly had caused all of this?_

Genesis shakes his head, finding his resolve. Everything he was fighting for, everything he had already worked so hard for, would be for nothing if he couldn't do this much. He will have lost three lovers all for nothing.

* * *

Sephiroth had hurried as much as one could while in an other-worldly labyrinth. His only real pointers were the bodies of the gods and demi-gods, some of their bodies still writhing unnaturally despite their bodies having started decaying hours ago. Not that these were subtle hints, from one room to the next, a new litter of immortals guiding his path.

After several minutes, he finally realized he'd been walking in a loop, though he couldn't say for how long. He also couldn't say why, as all the doors he'd been going through had been in a straight line. He frowned. It wasn't exactly a puzzle, no, there didn't seem to be anything to solve. It was rather that he had missed something...no, that wasn't right either... No, it was the skeleton key he'd been given, he decided. After all, the ferryman had said it was cursed...

He laid the key on the floor, proceeding to the next room. It was not the same room. But, much to his dismay, the key did in fact have a door it went to. He attempted strategies for several minutes, never seeming to find the right answer. He had even tried throwing the key through the door before going through himself, but the key only entered the door behind him. The silveret frowned deeply.

* * *

"_Cloud..._"

"It's okay, Chaos, Vincent. I knew this is what would happen going into this." The brows of the demon furrowed. "Don't look at me like that. It doesn't hurt, you know. I'm actually...so relieved... You get what you pay for, and this was a just price, I think," Cloud tries to comfort. But, he fails; he'd never been very good at those things. He was also a horrible liar, the way his chest was bleeding. Every time his newly-acquired immortality started healing him, his breath would tear it back open. It was obvious he didn't have long before he changed completely.

The demon lifted him gently. "Wh-what are you doing?"

The demon looked forlornly at the fallen red-head several meters away. "_Promise,_" he answered simply. Genesis made that promise, and by the Goddess, someone had to see it through before...before..._ No, don't even think about it..._

Sephiroth wasn't very far away. He was stuck in the loop with the cursed key, the final trial before facing Keiden. Well, not that there was a demon-lord to face at this point, Hades, Mundus, Keiden or otherwise. The general rushed forward at the sight of his young lover. "Is he...?"

"Not yet," the ravenet answered. The blond opened his eyes, hazed, lidded, glowing more than ever. His wing was also glowing rather strangely.

"Cloud...what-?"

"I had to. To save you...I had...to save your mother...had to save the Goddess. The only way to save you was to free her... I have to go with her, now, but don't cry... Please don't cry...I wanted...I wanted to save you..."

"Why? Why you?!" Sephiroth yelled in complete hysteria.

"That's why...right there...Only the one truly beloved by the new Goddess...only that person's humanity could be sacrificed. Only that person could accompany her to the promised land... But don't cry, you'll join us, one day, you know... I'll be waiting. And so will she. And Gene and Ange...we'll all be there...we'll..."

"Hush, children," a deep and gentle voice rang out. A light surrounded a being descending from the seal at the top of the room. The being was a woman, a celestial featured woman; the goddess...the only other being Sephiroth had ever seen who looked remotely like himself. The resemblance was stunning. Silvery hair fell over her bare body, nude but for the cuffs on either of her wrists. She took one, presenting it to her son. It bore the crest of the Goddess. "I am proud of you, Sephiroth. And of your knight. I swear to take the best care of him while awaiting your homecoming. I know life will be hard, in the coming years without him, I remember How I had been, bereft of mine own...But you must let him heal in the Promised Land; you must let him grow."

"I don't understand," the general said simply, shaking his head. beside his mother, his love was changing; becoming fully immortal. But not the way Echidna and the others had been predicting...his wing was changing in shape and growing white feathers. They had predicted he would become demon, as they were, but it was the exact opposite; Cloud was becoming an angel. It wasn't Cloud's life to be sacrificed...it was only his human form, they finally realized.

"When you come to take my place, your knight will be prepared, as will your Weapons. You will protect Terra, as I have done Gaia. Your life will begin anew, as a Goddess. Well, at least I'd been expecting a daughter all this time," she explained in a mildly humorous voice. "There is no more time, my son; your knight must change, and it is not safe here. We must leave you," she briefly grasped his shoulder, taking his lover in her arms, her Amazonian stature dwarfing the already small male, who was having a silent fit of pain. But through it all, he heard one thing... no, he felt it, really...

* * *

"What are you going to do?" Vincent asked the silveret, laying back onto the roof of Shinra Manor, thinking many of the same thoughts, and showing just as much emotion.

"I'm...going to do what he asked," the ex-SOLDIER answered.

The gunman looked questioningly to his companion. "What's that?"

Sephiroth laid back down beside the sable-haired keeper, left hand tucked behind his head, right hand slowly rising. After a moment, Vincent noticed the shimmer of the object he held. It was the wrist cuff the Goddess had given him. Sephiroth closed his eyes, feeling the shadow of his lover watching over him. "'Take care of everyone...'" it sounded so cliche, but it only made him smile at the familiar character he missed already. He opened his eyes again, grinning at the ex-Turk. "That means you, too; you're never going back to that coffin again."

The smile was a half happy one, and Vincent knew that really, Sephiroth wanted to do just about anything but smile, but said nothing. Instead, he lifted himself, pulling Sephiroth up as well. "Let's go find that boy. What was his name? Zack? I have to scold him for Angeal."

"What an Angeal-like dying wish."

Sephiroth looked at the sky. For the first time in a long time, he found the sky of the rising sun beautiful again. And even if he wanted to cry, wanted to break down right now and bawl like an eight year old, he was also happy. He was there; he was watching. And, looking up at the brightening morning, he knew the stratospheric clouds where not the only ones looking back. That he would be there soon, too...

* * *

A/N: So, I decided on a new ending all together because after losing the original files, I didn't want to rewrite both the endings over, so here is this bitter-sweetness that marks the end. I'm so sorry for the huge delay, but stuff happens and st least it's finished now. Thank you, everyone who supported this!


End file.
